


The Rising Star

by lifeofafandomatic



Category: The Morganville Vampires - Rachel Caine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5662243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofafandomatic/pseuds/lifeofafandomatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael is now a famous musician and songwriter. While Eve is initially quite happy for him, she eventually begins to feel neglected and jealous. They grow further and further apart until Eve can’t stand it anymore. One day, she attends a concert of Michael’s, planning to break up with him once the show’s over and wanting to attend one last performance as a farewell. However, things don't go as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rising Star

**SIX MONTHS AGO**

Eve Rosser woke up to the gentle sound of a guitar strumming from the living room downstairs. She lay in bed for a while, smiling to herself. She could imagine her boyfriend, Michael Glass, sitting on the couch in his favourite spot by the window, the rising sun painting him and his guitar in gold. The strumming abruptly stopped and was replaced by the sound of a pencil scribbling on paper. Heaving herself out of bed, Eve went to see what he was composing today.

She found him just as she had imagined him, sitting by the window looking as ethereal as he always did. She curled up beside him, her head on his shoulder. “Hey,” she whispered.

Michael kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Hey.”

“What are you writing today?”

“Oh nothing, just another song for you.”

“You should come up with better titles, then," she said, reading the words  _ Eve's Song #29 _ on the top of the page. "Besides, don't you have hit singles to write?”

“Not really. I’ve finished all the songs for my EP, so I’m basically free right now. 

Eve paused for a moment before a new thought crossed her mind. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, I love my music, but no, not as much as I love you.”

“That's not my question!” she cried, but blushed anyways. “What are you going to do if you get famous?”

He looked at her curiously. “I'm not going to forget about you, if that's what you're worried about.”

“Of course not,” she lied.

“Then what is it?"

She tried to think of some point of concern that didn't involve her. “Are you thinking of touring the world?”

“I’m not that famous yet.” He laughed. 

“You could be,” Eve replied, half-encouraging yet half-sorrowful. 

“Speaking of which,” Michael added abruptly, “before things get too crazy, I want to ask you something.” He gently placed his guitar on the couch next to Eve and got down on one knee. She tried—and failed miserably—to stifle her gasp of surprise. He produced a small black box from his pocket and popped it open. Inside, there was a silver-banded ring with a diamond that twinkled softly in the early morning light coming through the windows. “Eve Rosser, will you—”

“Yes!” she shrieked, not caring about the early hour or how loud she was. “Oh my god, yes, of course!”

“Dammit, what’s with all the yelling?” Their third housemate, Shane Collins, padded sleepily down the stairs. His girlfriend and their fourth housemate, Claire Danvers, was trailing behind him.

“We’re getting married!” She showed them the diamond ring Michael had gotten on her finger in her excitement.

“Guys, that’s great!” Claire rushed over to hug them both while Shane continued to stand there and stare at them sleepily. He finally seemed to process the information because he snapped awake and went to give Michael one of those bro-hugs boys always do. “Congratulations.”

“Well, this is nice,” Eve observed. “Look, we’re all together again!” With Eve working at Common Grounds all day, Michael making music, Claire taking classes at the local university and Shane—well, who really knew what Shane did with his time—the Glass House Gang hadn’t all been in the same room for a while now.

“Until Mikey leaves for music-making, anyways,” Shane said, which was what had been picking at Eve’s mind all morning until Michael’s proposal.

“Don’t make me leaving seem so bittersweet,” Michael said. “It’s not like I’ll be gone for long.”

~*~

“He's been gone for _ ever _ .” Eve hurled a pillow across the living room. She was in Michael’s favourite spot on the couch, staring wistfully out the window. She heard the sound of a camera snapping and saw Shane tapping away on his phone.

“When will my husband return home from the war,” he said as he typed.

“What the hell, Collins,” Eve said, but she was too tired to fight him.

“Sorry, sorry.” He continued typing without saying a word and put his phone back in his pocket just as Eve’s own phone buzzed. Stupidly, she thought it would be Michael, but of course it was just Shane with the photo of her captioned: _ when will my boyfriend return home from his fame? _

“Stop making fun of her, Shane,” Claire said, coming out of the kitchen with a mug in each hand and gave one to him. “Besides, Michael isn't just her boyfriend. He's her  _ fiancé _ , remember?”

“Doesn't really feel that way,” Eve mumbled.

“Don’t say that.” Claire sat down beside her and gave her the second mug. It was the black one with purple Gothic lettering that read ‘poison’. “Just because Michael isn’t here doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

Eve continued to stare blankly at the mug in her hands. “What if he’s moved on and doesn’t want to tell me?” 

“He’d never do that. He loves you too much.”

She wasn’t acting like herself, she knew that. The normal Eve wasn’t this paranoid about whether she still held Michael’s affection, but these were not normal circumstances. She stared at the engagement ring on her finger and decided, “I’m gonna break it off.”

Claire took a sharp intake of breath and Shane choked on his coffee. “Break it off?” Claire said in disbelief. “Eve, what are you talking about? You guys had your wedding planned and everything!”

“What about having gothic musician babies that I can brainwash into making ‘Shane is the best’ their first words?” Shane chimed in.

Eve purposefully ignored his last comment. “I just feel like I barely know him anymore. I haven’t seen him in months, and right now I know as much about him as the media does, maybe even less. I don’t even know when his next concert is.”

“It’s in two days actually,” Claire answered, scanning her phone. “He’s playing at a place called Florey's Bar & Grill in Dallas and admission is free.”

Eve sat up straighter. She knew what she was going to do. “I’m going to his concert,” she said, a determined note in her voice.

“I don't get it,” Shane said. “You want to break off your engagement to him, yet you want to go to his concert?”

“Yeah, kind of like a goodbye before I end things with him.”

Shane and Claire exchanged a look, one of those looks where you just knew they were a couple and made her miss Michael even more. “I don’t know,” Claire said slowly. “You really want to go all the way to Dallas just to hear him play?”

“I just want to see him one last time,” Eve said, but even she could hear the hesitation in her tone. She quickly added, with purposeful enthusiasm, "I'll tell Oliver I'm taking a day off from Common Grounds. Someone else can take my shift. Let's all go!"

“This might come as a surprise, but I've actually got something to do," Shane said. "I've somehow got myself running deliveries and I can't opt out."

“I have to go to work," Claire added. "I'm sorry Eve, but you're going to have to either forget it or do it alone."

After much deliberating, Eve decided to head to Dallas on her own. This was the one time in the foreseeable future that she'd be able to see Michael. If she passed the opportunity up, things between them might remain unresolved forever. 

~*~

It was pleasantly warm when Eve stepped out from her hearse into the Dallas sun. She had a few hours until Michael's concert, but wasn't sure what to do with herself until then. She didn't want to wait outside Florey's like some crazed groupie —and, knowing Michael's artistic ability, he probably had many by now—so she resigned herself to strolling around the malls. 

Nightfall finally arrived, and the doors were opened up. Truth be told, Florey's was a lot more  _ Bar _ than  _ Grill _ , but the establishment wasn't as sketchy as Eve thought it might have been. She found a seat at the bar a distance away from the stage; she wanted to see Michael, but didn't want him to know she was there. Almost immediately, a bartender came up to her. Her shining waves of fiery red hair fell almost to her waist, and she—like Eve—wore leather and skulls for her Gothic look. "You want anything?" she asked. 

"No thanks, I'm here for the show."

"Ah." The bartender rested her elbows on the counter. "So you're one of those groupies, huh?"

"No," Eve said quickly. "I'm just…curious, that's all."

"Right." The bartender shot Eve a pitied look that seemed to say,  _ don't lie to yourself.  _ "Well, you still have to buy something to sit at the bar—it's the rules."

"Um, could I just have a glass of water, then? I have to drive later." Without a word, the bartender was off to get Eve was she wanted. The glass arrived in front of her with a  _ thump _ , but the bartender made no move to leave. "What?" Eve said finally. 

"Are you feeling okay? You look a bit upset."

Of all the things she could have said, this wasn't one that Eve anticipated. She gave a small smile. "Like I'm gonna tell you my life story."

"No, I get it. I've heard my share of weird tales after I started working here." Her eyes softened. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I—"

"Oi!" Eve heard a loud  _ snap _ of fingers next to her and saw an angry-looking man glaring at the bartender. "Get me a bottle of vodka!"

"Coming!" The bartender made a move to leave, but suddenly swivelled back towards Eve. "Hey, whatever's on your mind tonight, just forget it for a few hours. Relax. Enjoy yourself. I hear this guy's supposed to be pretty good." She gestured to a poster of Michael with a flick of her head, then disappeared to hunt down Angry Man's vodka. 

If only she knew that Eve's problem was the performer himself. 

Slowly but surely, Florey's began filling up. Teenagers, mostly girls, came running in first. Eve could hear snatches of their conversations; all were about Michael. The regulars trudged in later, immediately taking their places at the bar and yelling orders at the now-frantic bartender. Her red hair was a blur of motion as she rushed from one end of the bar to another, occasionally stopping to give Eve a sympathetic thumbs-up to check on her. 

Finally, the lights around the bar dimmed and a spotlight was focused on the stage where an emcee stood. "Good evening, everyone!" he shouted to the crowd. Some of the regulars raised their glasses in his direction; others shouted drunken hellos. Eve sat patiently, taking a sip of her water. The bartender joined her, the orders finally having slowed down. 

"Tonight," the emcee continued, "we have a very special guest in our midst. He's pop's newest sensation, and he's come back to the city where it all began for him. Everyone, please welcome Michael Glass!"

There was a flurry of applause and shrieks from the group of teenage girls near the front. "We love you, Michael!" they screamed.

"He's kinda hot," a girl nearby who was not much older than Eve muttered. "Maybe I'll…hunt him down after the show."

Eve's blood boiled. Even on the verge of breaking up, she still felt possessive of him. What was her deal? She looked down at the glass of water in her hand. "Hey," she half-snapped. "I change my mind. Could you get me a shot of the strongest thing you’ve got?"

The bartender looked concerned. "Didn't you tell me you have to drive later?"

"One shot wouldn't hurt."

"I suppose…." 

The glass arrived in front of Eve, and she threw it down without thinking about the alcohol that would sting its way down her throat. “Whoa there,” the bartender said. “Aren’t you going a little fast?”

“Can I have another one?” Eve said, ignoring the question at hand. 

“You won’t be in a state to drive if you do.” The bartender was shaking her head, much to Eve’s annoyance. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever, it’s fine,” Eve mumbled as Michael finished tuning onstage. He grabbed the mic and addressed the crowd. 

“Hey everyone,” he said, earning the cheers of the girls up front. “Um…my name’s Michael Glass. Some of you may not know me, and that’s okay. I’m going to be starting with a cover so that you can get to know me and my music, and hopefully I’ll impress you.”

The regulars laughed politely as the girls in the front continued to scream and clap. The girl near Eve continued whispering to her friend about what she’d do if she could find Michael after the show, and it made Eve feel disgusting all over just listening to her.  _ Why are you even jealous? _ a part of her whispered.  _ You don’t even want him any more. What does it matter, what he does from here on out? _

But, if she was being truthful with herself, she did care. She cared a lot. The thought of Michael with someone else pained her, especially when she noticed the engagement ring on his finger winking at her under the spotlight. 

_ So he kept it _ , she thought with awe as he strummed the opening chords to Sia’s  _ Chandelier _ . Did he think about her, or Shane, or Claire? Did he think about Morganville? 

More importantly, did he still love her?

_ It doesn’t matter what he thinks. You’re going to end things, plain and simple, and then you’re gonna leave.  _

But it wasn’t simple. Because seeing Michael up there sparked that old feeling of longing in her chest, the need to hear his voice and feel his lips on hers. She’d known this was a bad idea from the start, wanting to break off the engagement. It was a drastic measure to cope with the loneliness she had been feeling, especially since she was third-wheeling with Claire and Shane. At the same time, on a deeper level, she knew she still loved Michael, wouldn’t stop loving him. That’s what made this so hard. 

_ Then don’t, _ Claire’s voice popped in her head, so clear that Eve thought her friend was really there with her.  _ Don’t break it off.  _

Michael finished his rendition of  _ Chandelier _ , and Eve clapped robotically with everyone else. The regulars seemed impressed, even though she could tell that some had never heard the original before. He continued to play a few more covers and a few of his EP tracks until about halfway through his set, when he looked a little nervous as he stared into the crowd. “Um, this next song is actually a new one. I mean, I’ve never played this for the public before, but it’s been sitting around for quite some time. This is a song written for someone special to me.” Eve couldn’t help but hold her breath. Did he find another someone special? Was this song for them? “Um, her name’s Eve.” Her heart skipped a beat. Some girl in the crowd shouted, “Oh my god,  _ my _ name is Eve!” and she couldn’t help but feel irrationally angry at this other Eve who thought Michael would write a song about a girl he didn't even know. He smiled shyly in the direction of Other Eve and said, “Her name's Eve Rosser, and this song is called  _ Fall of Night _ .”

As Michael strummed the opening chords, she realised she knew this song. Her thoughts went back to all those months ago, before fame had taken over Michael's life, to that quiet moment sitting together in the sunrise reading the draft of  _ Eve's Song #29 _ . Unwanted tears came to her eyes as she watched him, utterly mesmerised. Quickly, she rubbed her eyes, not wanting to draw attention to herself. 

It was hard not to hum along. She'd committed this song to memory, just like the other 28 songs Michael had written for her. She was able to recall every movement of the melody, from its rises to its falls. The length of each note was ingrained in her mind, and she found herself breathing unconsciously to the beat of the music.  _ I've never heard this song before _ , she tried to persuade herself.  _ This is new to me; I don't know who Eve Rosser is. _ No matter how much she tried to fight it, she couldn't stop the mix of emotions within her. She was the fiancée of Michael Glass, one of pop music's hottest breakout stars. It was hard to ignore him, especially when he was playing her song in public in front of her eyes.

Too soon, the song was over. She clapped along with everyone else, and tried to distance herself from the boy on the stage. Hearing that song— _ her _ song—made it harder for her to do what she had to do. 

"Does anyone have any requests?" Michael called to the crowd. 

"Encore!" someone shouted, and Eve hoped desperately that Michael wouldn't follow it. She didn't know if she could maintain her composure if she heard her song again.

Someone yelled out the name of one of his EP tracks, and he happily obliged. Eve let herself be moved by his music, but constantly reminded herself why she'd come.

After the concert, Eve didn't know what to do. She wanted to rush backstage into Michael's arms and just feel his touch, but she knew that it would only hurt her more because he'd be gone the next day. Besides, everyone around her was buzzing with a mix of excitement and jealousy about “who is this Eve Rosser girl?” She had to get out of there, before someone noticed how strange she was acting. Forcing herself to remain calm, she turned her back on the venue, found her beat up hearse and drove back to Morganville. 

~*~

When she got home, there was a lone figure on the porch. It was so dark that she could only see a silhouette, but she still knew exactly who it was. “What are you doing here?” Even she could notice the hurt in her voice. 

Michael stood up and walked slowly towards her, like he was afraid of scaring her. “I was in Dallas for a concert, so I thought I'd come back here and spend the night.”

“Where are Claire and Shane?”

“They're staying at Myrnin’s. They said something about how we had to fix things.”

She was alone with him, then. Myrnin was Claire’s (sometimes mad) scientist boss whom Shane disliked, so they must have been truly desperate for Eve and Michael to fix things to stay with him. She didn't know whether to thank or curse the two of them. “I was at your concert tonight, by the way.”

His eyebrows rose slightly in surprise. “So you heard your song?” She nodded. “Wow. I…I didn't think you’d be there.”

“Why don't we head inside?” Eve suggested, starting to feel the chill of the night.

“Right. Of course.” His posture was stiff, even as he walked into his own home, like he felt that he didn't belong. It was only when he settled in his favourite spot on the couch that he visibly relaxed. She sat with him, playing with the engagement ring. 

“Why haven't you said anything to us in the past six months?” She couldn't help but sound accusatory, and she noticed Michael shrink away from her a little.

“I've been really busy, with all the tourings and CD signings and recordings with other artists.” He noticed her hurt expression and added, “I haven't forgotten about you, I promise. You and Shane and Claire are all I thought about in my spare time.”

“You're leaving in the morning again, aren't you.” It was more of a statement than a question. 

“I really wish I didn't, but yeah, I guess I do.”

Eve knew what she wanted to say next, but it didn't stop the ache in her chest. “Michael, I…I think we should, um….” She couldn't look him in the eye; it hurt her too much. “I think we should break off the engagement.”

There. She'd ripped the band-aid right off. Michael stared at her in silence for a while, obviously wounded. Finally he found his voice again. “Eve, what are you talking about?” 

“With all your travelling, it feels like you don't have time for me. We've been out of touch for so long it's like I only see the you the media sees.”

“Eve, I’m sorry.” He reached out to touch her, and it was something so unexpected yet welcome that she didn’t have the strength to pull away. “I wish I could be here for you, but I want to share my music with the world too.”

“I’m not trying to make you choose.”

“I wish I didn’t have to. I’m trying to figure out what kind of compromise I can make so that I can maximise my time with you and with my music. I am trying, I swear, but all of this is new to me and I don’t know what to do!” He punched the couch with the hand that wasn’t laced with Eve’s, and she saw just how frustrated the fame was making him. He saw the surprise in her eyes and mumbled, “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, it’s fine.” For once, she wasn’t angry with him, as she had been in the past few weeks when it had seemed clear to her that Michael would never come back. They sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence before Eve asked, “What are you going to do then?”

He was staring at their intertwined hands, and tightened his grip as if he was afraid either one of them would run away. “Tonight, I’m just going to stay here with you.”

His kisses started slow. They were soft, gentle, and everything Eve had missed in the past six months. The kisses got faster and more feverish until Eve was on her back on the couch and Michael was on top of her. She had missed this so much. She missed his sweetness, she missed being able to run her hands through his hair, she missed his presence in her life.

_ And now he’s come back. _

His lips pulled away from hers, and she saw his baby-blue eyes almost light up in the moonlight streaming in from the window behind them. Breathlessly, he asked, “Do you wanna go upstairs?”

Eve was way ahead of him. 

~*~

“Put your pants on, people; we are  _ back _ !”

Eve blinked sleepily at the sound of the muffled noise. In a few moments, the door to Michael’s room was flung wide open, and Shane stood in the doorway, smirking at the two of them. “I see you two had a pleasant night.”

“Good morning to you too, jackass,” she said, but couldn’t stop smiling.

Michael rolled over to face the door, moaning. “Shane, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine in the morning? Seriously, get your pants on, there’s something you need to see. And wipe that stupid grin off your face, Gothica.”

After getting dressed, the two of them entered the kitchen to see Claire standing at the counter with her laptop open to one of those entertainment news websites. “Congratulations, Eve, you’ve made the news…. Or, at least your name has.”

The article was titled ‘ _ Who is Eve Rosser? _ ’ and it talked about how Michael had mentioned her at his concert the night before. “‘Girls across the country are coming forth to claim that they are Eve Rosser, but we can only wait for Glass to introduce us to his mystery woman,’” Eve read aloud. 

Michael had a strange expression on his face. “I think I know how to make the compromise,” he said, mostly to himself. He turned to Eve, his eyes lit up with excitement. “Why don’t we take that article’s advice? Why don’t we introduce you?”

“What are you saying?"

“I’m saying…what if you guys came on the rest of my tour with me?”

The three of them traded glances with each other, and stared at Michael. “Are you serious?” Eve finally asked.

“Yeah. If the past six months have taught me anything, it’s that this job is lonely without you guys.”

Shane was the first one who spoke up. “That was really sappy, dude, but yeah, let’s get the hell out of Morganville.”

Claire shrugged. “I’ll probably learn more out there, anyways.” Eve suppressed a sigh of affection.  _ This girl, always looking for learning opportunities. _

“Eve?” Michael turned to her expectantly.

How could she say no? Exploring the world outside Morganville, with her best friends, her rockstar fiancé? It would certainly make one hell of an adventure. "Well, why aren't we packing yet?"


End file.
